


Throwing Mjolnir

by tirsynni



Series: Little Brothers [1]
Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Post-Thor: Ragnarok (2017), pre-credits, the HUG
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-24
Updated: 2018-05-24
Packaged: 2019-05-13 05:57:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14743238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tirsynni/pseuds/tirsynni
Summary: "Every time I threw it, it would always come back to me.""It sounds like you had a pretty special and intimate relationship with this hammer and that losing it was almost comparable to losing a loved one."





	Throwing Mjolnir

**Author's Note:**

> Commission fic requesting a fluffy "The Hug" scene.
> 
> **Edited** : Fixed some minor errors, like messed up italics.

Loki’s illusion looked perfect, of course. Not a hair out of place, not a smudge on his clothes. His reflection looked immaculate, and it was awful how even the illusion’s annoying little smirk wrenched Thor’s heart. There was no wild light in his eyes, no manic twist to his clever mouth, no pallor or shadows. In the mirror, Thor saw his mischievous little brother again.

Too bad it was naught but an illusion, the best one Thor had seen in years.

Thor’s hand fell away from his empty eye socket and its endless ache to cup his glass of...something. All he knew was that it was alcoholic enough to put a smile on Valkyrie’s face. Perhaps not the best choice for his first night as King, but with the dust of his home realm powdering the minute ship which was now his kingdom, he thought no one would blame him.

Enough stalling. More than a king, he was a big brother. He thought of his conversation with Korg about Mjolnir -- about Loki -- and Thor made himself loosen his grip on his glass and turn around. Nostalgia and a fond, loving resignation filled him as he saw Loki’s illusion smiling back at him, calm like the last day -- nay, the last decade -- hadn’t happened. Little bastard didn’t have a hair out of place.

“It suits you,” Loki said. The warmth in his voice cut sharper than any of his knives. Thor turned to put down his glass, using the movement to hide his face long enough to stabilize his composure.

All it took was Ragnarok itself to hear that warmth again, to see it in Loki’s eyes. Thor loved Loki dearly, but he was such a little shit.

One who was probably in Vanaheim by now, using his charm to secure himself a comfy place in Vanaheim’s courts. _Such_ a little shit.

“Well,” Thor said, turning back to Loki like looking at him didn’t hurt, “maybe you aren’t so bad after all, Brother.”

“Maybe not,” Loki agreed, almost playful. Peaceful. _That_ was new, something Thor could never recall seeing on his baby brother’s face. It _hurt_ , but it also settled something inside of Thor. Even if it was just an illusion, Loki came back. This wasn’t the end.

Thor switched the glass for the decanter stopper and played with it. If Loki could be calm about this, so could Thor. “Thank you,” Thor said sincerely. For saving their people, for coming back, for being Thor’s brother again. He tossed the stopper in his hand and thought ruefully of illusions past. “If you were here I might even give you a hug.”

Thor threw the stopper at the illusion, resigned for the flicker and flash.

Then the illusion caught the stopper with a small smack. Object meeting flesh. Thor’s heart stopped, then thudded hard against his chest, warmth flooding him with every beat. “I’m here,” Loki said simply.

That little shit smiled at him, small and fond and content, and Thor helplessly smiled back.

_“Every time I threw it, it would always come back to me.”_

Well, he had thrown him, and Loki had come back, somehow not looking like he had fought an army of the undead and started Ragnarok. A dramatic, vain little shit.

One who if he thought Thor was kidding about that hug was insane. His grin growing with each step, Thor strode forward. The faintly smug look on Loki’s face faded. “Brother --”

The rest of Loki’s words vanished in a squeak as Thor hugged the air out of him. Thor wrapped his arms around Loki’s perfect-for-this slender body and _squeezed_. Loki wiggled, hands flailing as much as they could with Thor’s arms wrapped around his. Loki struggled and cursed and Thor closed his eye, content, not loosening his death grip. Not a single knife in the ribs or a snake biting his neck. Loki needed the hug, too.

At last, Loki’s arms fell loose at his sides. “This is undignified,” he said.

“‘Tis,” Thor agreed, not moving his own arms an inch. He pressed his face against the side of Loki’s head and breathed in deeply. Loki even took the time to clean his hair before returning.

“Unbefitting of royalty,” Loki added, and Thor felt him shift in his grip. Thor squeezed a little harder and hid his face in Loki’s curls.

“Absolutely.” Loki smelled of _home_ , like he had paused long enough before fleeing to scoop up bits of Mother’s garden and Father’s library and hide them on his person. He was warm and solid and not a weeping madman or a cooling corpse. Thor sniffled and tried to hide it.

“And now you’re getting snot in my hair. Idiot.” Then Loki’s arms were wrapped around Thor’s waist and his head pressed against Thor’s neck. Thor felt damp heat against his skin, but there wasn’t a hitch in Loki’s voice when he said, “I assume you didn’t even see the healers.”

“Nope.” Warm, solid, alive, and sane. All it took was the destruction of life as Thor knew it. Unsurprising but acceptable.

_“My sons,”_ Odin said, amidst praise of Loki’s magic and mischief. There had been a lesson there Thor had been too hot-headed to learn. Not absolution but forgiveness, pardon. Acceptance. A lesson finally learned by the lack of Mjolnir in his hand and one peaceful rock. It took Odin until the end of his life to gain that last bit of wisdom. Thor hoped he did better.

Loki snorted a laugh -- undignified, indeed -- and tightened his grip on Thor. Thor just breathed in the scent of home and clutched his little brother. His little brother, who he let go and who came back. Who he was willing to let go again but Thor preferred to have him in his arms just a little bit longer.

Except Loki huffed and started shoving at him. Purely to be contrary, Thor hugged him tight enough to earn a wheeze before Loki smacked at his arm. “Let me go, oaf. If no one else saw to your eye, I should check it out now. If you die of an infection, I would have no choice but to rule again, and the theater equipment on this ship is horrid and not meant for all audiences.”

Thor expected the reminder of Loki’s ill-gained rulership to anger him, but there was no crack of thunder in his breast. He laughed and shook his head. He forced himself to step away, hands lingering to slide down Loki’s arms before he completely pulled back. Who knew when Loki would give him such an opportunity again?

Except if he ever wanted another chance, he had to let go now.

Loki rolled his eyes, the picture of fond indulgence, and pulled Thor back to the mirror where the light was better. He paused to look at the bed once, considering. With a grimace, he looked away. Thor understood completely.

Loi grumbled under his breath when he pulled off the patch to examine the eye. Quiet but thorough insults interspersed his words, and Thor couldn’t will away his smile even if he wanted to. In the aftermath of how many battles had Loki done this? Snarling insults as magic shimmered green at his fingertips, healing Thor’s wounds? Even when they were small children, when Thor insisted on climbing the trees in Mother’s garden, Loki was there, insulting and healing.

_“Idiot,” Loki growled, voice still high-pitched with youth, hair short but still slicked back. Trying so hard to look older than he was._

“You didn’t even clean it, you brute,” Loki was saying when Thor leaned over, resting his head on Loki’s shoulder. Loki paused. “...Brother?”

Thor thought of two brothers in a now obliterated garden, their now-dead Mother laughing at the twigs in their hair. She had been the one who started teaching Loki healing magic. Her magic infused Loki’s in Thor’s skin.

The necessity of healing and forgiveness. His parents’ greatest lessons learned at last.

“I’ve missed you, Brother.”

_“Every time I threw it, it would always come back to me.”_  
_  
“It sounds like you had a pretty special and intimate relationship with this hammer and that losing it was almost comparable to losing a loved one.”_

“Well,” Loki said, and his hand clasped the back of Thor’s neck, “it’s not like I could leave you to rule alone. You have so little experience, after all.”

Another opening, and Thor almost rolled his eyes. Loki was pushing too hard. Loki, always testing. “Indeed. As Prince of Asgard, former King, and my advisor, you will be _quite_ busy helping resettle our people.”

Loki froze. Thor hid a grin against his shoulder. “...advisor?”

“As you say, I have little experience actively ruling. I will need your regular support. Possibly for decades.”

After a heartbeat, Loki squeezed the back of Thor’s neck. “I suppose you are stuck with me for a while then. After all, you’re too much of an idiot to even clean your eye socket after a Death Goddess rips your eye out. You are _hopeless_ , Brother.”

Thor couldn’t argue with that. When he snaked his arms around Loki for another hug, Loki only sighed and endured. He also never moved his hand from Thor’s nape.

“I don’t know,” Thor murmured. “Legends said that Father traded his eye for wisdom. Perhaps I’m finally learning something, too.”

At last, Thor learned how to let go, and Loki was free enough to return home. Home was made of its people, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> For more Loki, Thor, fandom, and commission info, check me out on [tumblr](http://tirsynni.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
